Troubled Minds
by The Wayward Orphans
Summary: There isn't anything more pathetic than wallowing in self-pity. Asking why anything bad ever happened to you, or why the world has wronged you. That's why I hate myself for allowing myself to spiral into this. I'm Arthur Kirkland, and this is my stupid story about my melodramatic love life, and how, just maybe, things get better with time. Multi X England
1. Chapter 1

It wasn't like it was unexpected. In all honesty it was expected, foreseen, forewarned, and yet still it fell on deaf ears. Maybe that's why I struggled now, and maybe that's why my heart ached. As if someone drove a rusty blade into my heart, over and over and over, until they were satisfied with how torn it was.

Until it was no longer able to be fixed, or used again. Past the point of repair, or need.

Useless.

Maybe if I had listened, then I wouldn't have felt so bad.

Maybe if I had taken their advice, I wouldn't be the one crying. Sobbing into Francis' shoulder, wondering why God had to forsake me; allow me to be trampled on and crumpled up, tossed away after being used.

Love isn't something to play with, and a heart really _is_ fragile. No matter who's the bearer.

That's why my heart ached, why it cried in sorrow, and why my eyes flooded with massive waves of salty tears. Why it's so hard to open them, without seeing a distorted reality. One of mixed, blurred sights. Muffled sounds, and painful reminders.

All because I was stupid, young, and fell in love.

They say it's better to have loved, and lost, than to have never loved at all, but that's absolute bollocks.

If it were, then why did I feel like dying? And why can't I look into Francis' eyes without having that dagger dive right back into my chest? All because his eyes reminded me too close to Alfred's. They might have been a shade paler, but they still held that warmth, and love...or rather, Francis' holds that love while his lost it.

I'm so stupid.

Pathetic.

Worthless.

Worked up over some stupid teen love, one that would have never lasted past senior year, if even then. I should stop crying, stop acting so childish.

Just because he cheated on me, with...well, what do I call him now? Traitor? Enemy? Villain? Slut? The one who used to be my best-friend. Who betrayed me, and killed me. Whatever. Fuck them. Fuck them all. I need to regain my composure, and calm down. Overreacting won't help now, and it'll make things worse.

But it just _hurts_. Aches, and blooms in my chest. I want it to stop! To cease! To just be over...

"Arthur...maybe that trip that your family has planned will do you good. You don't have a reason to oppose now, please, mon ami, go with them," Francis whispered gently as he kept comforting me.

It was true, now that I no longer had Alfred by my side, there was no point in me staying here. All my other friends were going to other places for summer, maybe this will do me good. I could forget about everything, and start new. But- No. I will go.

"You're right...thank you Francis..," I mumbled, tired and exhausted from all the crying. I just kept my head on his shoulder, not having the energy to lift it up or do anything else for that matter.

He just nodded and stayed close, knowing that I would need the comfort.

Maybe this won't be bad, a trip to London could change everything.

Hopefully, even a broken heart.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Nothing goes as planned...Everything will break...People say goodbye...In their own special way...All that you rely on, and all that you can fake-,"_

"-even hearing me?!" I was pulled out of the soft lulls of my music when my brother, Dylan, tugged on my headphones and pulled it out of my ear. Rolling my eyes I glared at him lightly.

"I think the purpose of headphones _is_ to block out what anyone is trying to tell you. Don't you think?" I muttered dryly, trying to get my earbuds back. Dylan smacked my hand and tutted lightly at me, annoying me further than I was.

The idiot really should know better than to annoy me right now. Being in a cramped space, and stuck in a tin machine flying through high-altitude for hours really has an affect on people.

"What I was telling you, is that we'll be landing within the hour. Lighten up a bit Artie-" I growled at the nickname he used. It was too early to start calling me that again; heart throbbing at the word.

"-sorry. _Arthur_. Soon you'll get a chance to start all over again, albeit for just two months. You'll forget about that fat-ass lard face soon enough."

Easy enough for him to say. He wasn't the one who saw his boyfriend kiss his best friend. And he wasn't the one who's heart constantly ached, chest pained, and eyes watered at the mere thought.

Snatching my headphones back from Dylan, I slipped the buds back in. My body relaxed slightly back into the uncomfortable blue cushioned seat as the soft cords and melancholy voice drifted back into my ears.

"Piss off Dylan."

* * *

><p>There weren't many things that could lift my spirits easily, more so when it came to heartbreak, but it's safe to say that a soft bed and a spacious room did so perfectly.<p>

It was so plush, and so inviting, I groaned in happiness as I plopped my entire body onto it. This was just so amazing and comforting after all those hours on a uncomfortable plane seat, and then a couple of more times drive to this house. I just wanted to stay in this bed and sleep in it forever. To forget all my troubles and just dream of happiness and joy.

Of course, this is why one of my various twat siblings had to come in and ruin my moment of peace.

"Caterpillar! Get your bleeding arse up and get downstairs!"

And out of all the siblings, it had to be Rose. She was the only one out of all of us to be blessed with my mothers eyebrows. Asides from that she was mostly a carbon copy of our father. Only with dark auburn hair instead.

I couldn't stop the whine from escaping my mouth as I tried to curl up into a tighter ball in bed. I would give up anything if her somewhat shrill voice would quiet down and leave.

Too bad she'd never leave without getting what she wanted. That's why she walked over, and with the manly strength she got from hours of horse playing and competing with Allister, she picked me up from bed.

Now, as much as I would like to admit I _hadn't_ let out an unmanly squeak, my pride had already gotten used to admitting this.

"Put me down! ROSE!" I shouted, thrashing in her hold. Rose just laughed and shook her head as she carried me out the door and down the hallway to the stairs.

I kept shouting at her all the way into the living room, where she then settled me down. I gave her a huff, not really angry at her since she's always done this to me.

"Arthur, come here," a soft voice said, breaking me out of my somewhat annoyed thoughts on Rose. Nodding, I walked towards the shorter woman who was settled in a plush, burgundy colored recliner. She had her graying her tied into an elegant bun, and wire framed rectangular glasses perched on her narrow nose. A soft smile was on her lips, her eyes casted down and focused on the moving needles in her wrinkled hands.

"Yes Nana?" I asked, knowing that if I called her grandmother she'd give me a disgruntled look and smack me.

"How are you?" she asked simply, still not looking away from her work.

Even if I was feeling like horrible shite, all because of the wonderful boyfriend I always talked to her about over the phone, I had to lie to her. There was no way I would tell her that that bastard broke my heart. Especially knowing that she would comment about it to Allister, and indirectly ask him to "check on the boy." As in to beat him up. It still amazed me that Dylan hadn't spoken a word about this to our eldest brother.

"I'm fine Nana," I said, trying not to sound like I forced it. Lying to her always bubbled guilt inside me, and made my voice quiver in the oddest of ways.

She seemed to buy it, humming as she kept on knitting. After what seemed like an hour of silence, she spoke again.

"You'll find them soon. Now run along, I'll send your sister back for you when your mother and father come back from the store," she stated more than said.

I was confused on the first part. What did she mean I'll 'find them soon'?

"Nana, wha-"

"Run along Albion. Settle the things you're keeping here, and make sure you have all your items ready for when you move to the city," she said more sternly, marking it the end of the discussion.

I nodded dumbly, walking back to the stairs and up them. My mind solely focused on what she said. What the hell did that mean? Why did she say that? What is 'them'?

All these questions stirred and filled my brain as I settled back down on my bed. I stared up at the ceiling, looking at the swirls that were made from the paint job. It wasn't until now that I noticed she had used my old nickname as a child.

A wave of nostalgic memories pushed aside the questions in my mind, bringing back happy memories of running around in my Nana's backyard. Running into the nearby forest and talking to little wisps of light. I smiled, going through all these happy memories again.

"Maybe I will have a fun time here," I murmured, believing myself more than last time.

* * *

><p><strong>Lyrics from In my veins, by Andrew Belles. All musical rights belong to him. <strong>


End file.
